


the illusion of safety

by AlexSeanchai (EllieMurasaki)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akumatized Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Set Around Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:04:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/AlexSeanchai
Summary: A confession from Ladybug leads to Chat Noir accidentally figuring out her identity. In the emotional turmoil that follows, other secrets are revealed—and into their midst flaps a dark purple butterfly.





	the illusion of safety

Chat Noir darted from roof to roof in the general direction of Marinette's balcony. As Adrien, if he hadn't gotten a straight answer out of her then he probably wasn't going to, but as Chat he probably had a decent chance. And there was ace-spectrum and then there was _asexual_ , okay, one of these things is not altogether like the other. And it wasn't like _Ladybug_ was ever planning on showing any interest in him, and at least _Marinette_ was already his friend on about one and a half sides of the—

A glint of red in shadow, shaped suspiciously like a mask.

Chat changed course.

She looked up when he landed: Ladybug was curled up in the corner between a chimney and the shingles, drawn in on herself, but he'd definitely seen her eyes light up at the sight of him. "What are you doing out so late?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same, my lady." Chat dropped down beside her. "I'd ask if everything's all right, but I bet that's a silly question."

Ladybug laughed weakly and leaned against him.

Across the way, someone hit a switch or something, illuminating an apartment window with twinkling red and green lights. Ladybug, apparently inspired, started humming: _twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing_. "Eight urgent orders, seven art commissions, six school assignments, fiiiive teenage heroes—"

Chat started snickering.

"Forty purple bugs, three huge lies, two supervillains, and a partridge in a pear tree!"

"Big mood," said Chat, and wondered if he dared put an arm around her.

Ladybug turned against him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. "And even with all that," she said bitterly, "it feels like my biggest problem is puppy love."

…oh. "Cats rule, dogs drool," Chat said at once.

She snickered. "Be serious, Chat."

He draped an arm over her shoulder. "When am I not?"

"Let me count the ways." She sobered. "Chat—I don't want to hurt you. You know that, right? You know I die a little every time you take a hit for me?"

"Better me than you," he told her. "Paris can't lose you."

"I know," she said in a small voice. "Tactically, you're more expendable." She sniffled. "Strategically? If I lose you, I'm done for. Game over. Purple butterfly victory party."

"Don't say that." To hell with playing off his heart like a joke. He pulled her close. "Don't _say_ that, Ladybug."

"Shut up a minute, will you?"

He rubbed his thumb in small silent circles on her back.

"It occurred to me today," Ladybug said finally, "that there's a word for that feeling. And it's the same word I've been using all along for—" She paused. "There's this boy in my class. Kindest person you'll ever meet. I've been trying to get him to look at me like a romantic prospect for literal years."

Ah, the mystery crush. "Please don't tell me this," he whispered.

"Shut _up_ , I'm not done." She drew in a breath. "Remember Stoneheart? Round two."

Chat winced. "I couldn't forget."

"Remember I said it was my fault, and you said I was wrong?"

"Yeah."

"You keep doing that. Whenever I need a boost, you're right there. You always know exactly what to say." She sniffled again. "Last week my class had a picnic after school—long story, don't ask. And he said—he said exactly what you would've said, if you were in his shoes." Ladybug pulled away, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Chat, I kissed him, and all I could see was you."

…and what the fuck was he supposed to say to _that_?

Ladybug let her head drop back to his shoulder. "What am I supposed to _do_ , Chat? I can't try to—to pursue both of you. That isn't fair to either of you. Not unless you both know I'm doing it, and of course I can't tell _him_ about this! But…but I can't lose him. Any more than I can lose you."

Well. Didn't _that_ put Chat's ambitions of half an hour ago in perspective. "I don't know what to tell you, Bug." He sighed. "I wish I did. I wish I could say, forget him, let's you and me run away together to a little house on the Mediterranean and raise three polka-dot kittens and a guinea pig."

She laughed a very small laugh.

"But that would hurt you. I won't do that. I can't."

"What a pretty pickle this is."

"Big mood."

The stars twinkled silently.

"Hey, LB?"

"Hm?"

"Would it compromise your identity if you told me his name?"

Ladybug blinked up at him. "Why do you ask?"

"I could maybe go find him while I'm out of costume and ask his thoughts on polyamory. You know, in a general sort of way. Naming no names."

She stayed quiet for a while.

"LB?"

"Shush, I'm thinking."

Chat started to card his fingers through one pigtail.

Finally, she said, "I don't think that would hurt anything." Bitterly, she added, "It's not like I'm the only girl in Paris who wants him."

"He's a fool if he doesn't want you," Chat told her.

Ladybug snorted. "Adrien Agreste is so far out of my league, Chat. He's, like, a national MVP and I'm down here in école maternelle."

_Last week—I kissed him—_

"Chat?"

She sounded worried. What could she possibly be worrying—

Oh.

"Divide by Camembert error," he told her. "Please reinstall Chat.exe and reboot."

"Huh?"

"I shouldn't have asked." Chat let his hands fall away from her. He wasn't even going to let it look like he wanted to hold her against her will. "I fucked up, I'm sorry—"

Wide blue eyes met his. "Chat, you're scaring me."

"Ladybug." He couldn't help but lift one hand to caress her cheek. "The whole school knows who kissed Adrien at the picnic last week."

She went still as stone.

"Chat," she whispered, and a tear slid from her eye and ran down his thumb. "I—I'm sorry—"

And then she was gone.

* * *

Marinette dragged herself reluctantly to school on Monday. She would have preferred to stay in bed, like she had all of Sunday, but Chat Noir would probably notice if she didn't show. And then he would come to the bakery and out himself to her and—oh, she'd fucked up _good_ this time.

Maybe she could sleep all day and not have to see either of them at all.

"Marinette?"

She didn't open her eyes. "Hi, Adrien."

"Did you sleep at _all_ last night?" A hand on hers, tugging in a direction that meant getting up. "Come on, let's find a mirror and get some concealer on those bags under your eyes, okay? They're so big, Chloé takes less luggage on a month's vacation."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it." Adrien audibly hesitated. "Marinette, come on, we need to talk. Privately."

"Whoo, that's right, Adrien!" called Kim. "Get that girl!"

"Kim," Adrien said flatly, "shut up before I shoot you."

"Shutting up!"

Adrien tugged at her hand again. "Marinette, _please_."

She opened one eye. "What did he tell you?"

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Do you really want to have this conversation with other people in the room?"

"I don't want to have this conversation at all. What did he say to you?"

"Ah." He tried to smile. "Cats rule, dogs drool?"

"Oh my god." Chat had—he'd trusted—he'd _trusted_ —

And Ladybug had told Chat point blank and repeatedly that she _couldn't_ know who he was with the mask off, but _still_. He'd told _Adrien_?

"Oh my _god_ ," Marinette repeated, shoving herself up and looking around the room. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to hang, draw, and quarter him and throw the pieces in the Seine."

Adrien winced and looked away.

"Where is he?" Marinette asked, poisonously sweet. She'd gone right past shaking with rage—the thumping on her thigh must be Tikki trying to discreetly get her attention but she didn't _care_ : Chat had _told him_ —

Adrien's eyes went wide—a heartbeat later, she was lying on the floor, head ringing, with Adrien pinning her down. " _Breathe_ , princess," he ordered. "Please. Breathe. Alya, get an SOS on the Ladyblog. Everybody else, clear out."

Marinette sucked in a breath. "What just—"

"Little purple butterfly," Adrien interrupted her. "Aiming for you."

—oh _fuck_ not again.

"Good thing you're so small," Adrien continued, rearranging his weight on her. "It can't physically get to you without going through me, now."

And wasn't this just the world's _worst_ time for her hormones to kick in. "Oh my god, you're worse than he is."

Adrien snorted. "That so? Hey, Nino, take a note. I want red roses at my funeral."

"No funeral," snapped Marinette. "No dying. Not allowed. You _or_ him."

"Oh good." Adrien exhaled, tickling her ear. "Breathe, come on. You've got to calm down."

Marinette could feel Adrien's heart hammering against her shoulder. "You too. Hawkmoth can't have you either."

"Hawkmoth can eat his own dick."

The butterfly flapped into her line of sight and hovered there.

"Adrien," whispered Marinette, and she couldn't just hit a switch and turn off the anger, she _couldn't_. And there were too many classmates who clearly had no intention of leaving the room. But maybe, if she could run and hide alone for a minute— "Let me up."

"No." She felt his fingers curl through hers. "He wants you, he goes through me."

Well, fuck. And maybe Chat hadn't told Adrien everything after all. Which was proving itself a little inconvenient just now, wasn't it? She let herself go limp. "I hope Chat Noir shows up soon."

Adrien snorted. "He'll be here when Ladybug is, like always." He squeezed her hand. "You know that."

"Adrien, please—"

"No," he repeated, and pressed a kiss to her hair. "Better me than you, princess."

Oh, she was going to kill them both. _So_ hard. "Better nobody at all!" If she tangled her feet with his legs and braced with one arm and _twisted_ —

The butterfly dove for him while he was midair, his startled face sliding to a mask of fury.

Marinette sat up and scrambled back against Mme. Bustier's desk. Adrien's white shirt was now a vivid purple; he was glaring past her. " _No_ ," he growled. "What _good_ is it if you give me the power to keep her safe when _you're_ what she needs kept safe _from_?"

Two meters to the open door.

But Adrien saw it too. He lunged, wrapping her wrist in an iron grip. "Sorry, princess," he said, and he almost sounded it. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Well, he'd damn well have to. Marinette looked frantically around—nothing was in reach that _she_ could improvise into a weapon; Alya was filming; maybe Nino could—? She flicked hasty glances between Nino and the textbook on his desk—

"I won't hurt you, Marinette," Adrien promised, through the butterfly outline of a mask. "I won't do that. I can't."

She yanked fruitlessly on the wrist he held. "You're hurting me now!"

Adrien's expression turned agonized. "You're fighting me now!" And furious. "Of _course_ I'm fighting _you_! You're just like my father, you know that? Controlling _asshole_."

She couldn't see Nino anymore.

"The _fuck_ you say," snarled Adrien. "Why should I believe you? He's more interested in making sure the spring collection shows up perfectly on the runway than he is in _what's best for me_ and you can't _possibly_ —"

Adrien flung himself away from her; violet darkness enveloped him; silver sprang up around them, blocking her view. A thud, and Alya's shriek: "Nino!"

The silver ring Adrien always wore rolled along the floor, tipped over, and spun to a stop.

"Seriously?" said Adrien's voice, thoroughly disgusted. " _That's_ my superpower? Lockdown? If I thought I could keep her safe with _lockdown_ , we'd be home already." He came to sit beside her against the desk; only it and they seemed to be inside the silver dome. "Nino?" he called. "Sorry, bro. How bad did I get you?"

Without looking, he found the ring. Pressed it into her palm. Closed her hand.

"Ugh," said Nino. "Ow. Dude, that _hurt_."

"Sorry," he said again.

Marinette pulled away from him and got slowly to her feet. "What am I supposed to call you?" she asked, looking over his brick-red chain mail tunic and the rapier in his other hand.

He grinned up at her, wide and Chat-bright, and winked. "Why, I'm your Chevalier, of course."

And there was a flat silver ring in her hand.

Marinette stormed around Mme. Bustier's desk and threw herself down, opening her purse to pull out her phone and drop in the ring and scritch Tikki's worried brow before snapping the purse closed again. "Peachy."

* * *

Nino's phone chimed an incoming text. He glanced at the notif on the lockscreen—Marinette's message started with two emoji, a turtle and a fox—and thought, _fuck_.

"Come on, Ladybug," Alya said to her livestream viewers. "Hurry up."

The rest of Marinette's text was an address in the twenty-first arrondissement.

"What are you doing?" asked Adrien—Chevalier—from inside the dome.

> _Marinette:_ 🐢 now 🦊 asap

"Texting Maman," Marinette lied. "She worries."

> _Marinette:_ 🐞 sorry no 🐱

"She shouldn't," said Chevalier. "You're safe with me."

The texts were also addressed to Alya.

"You're an akuma," Marinette pointed out flatly.

"Marinette. You'll always be safe with me."

Nino locked his phone again, grabbed his notebook, and scribbled _Alya, check your texts_. Leaving the notebook open, he slipped towards the door.

"Don't even think about it, Nino," said Chevalier.

"Take it easy, dude," said Nino. "I'm bleeding." Alya's eyes snapped to him. He held her gaze and glanced pointedly at the notebook, lying, "I'm going to the nurse." A thumbs up. "I don't think I could hit you through that dome thing anyway."

Chevalier huffed. "Get out of here."

Nino made a run for it.

Thank the gods for map apps. He was a block away from Marinette's destination when Alya caught up. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"Join the party."

Alya found the place first. "Chinese herbal medicine and massage?" she asked, incredulous.

Nino opened the door.

"Ah, I will be with you in a moment," called an old man's voice from the next room

"In a moment," muttered Alya under her breath. "We don't have time for this." She tapped irritably at her phone, and Nino's lit up with a message:

> _Alya_ 💝 _:_ Why would L tell M about us?

Nino shrugged helplessly.

"I don't get it," Alya went on. "I am _so_ not in the mood for a wild goose chase."

Nino poked his head through the doorway. A middle-aged woman in a businesslike blouse and suit pants was lying face-down on a mat while an old man in a loud Hawaiian shirt thudded the sides of his hands along her spine, rattling his bracelet.

Why _would_ Ladybug tell Marinette that Alya and Nino were Rena Rouge and Carapace?

Why would Ladybug trust any number of teenagers with any of this in the first place?

> _Nino:_ Is M L?

"Dude," said Nino. "Nice bracelet."

* * *

Outside the dome, Kim and Ivan were whispering furiously, and Marinette could hear the tap-tap of Chloé's shoe on the floor. Maybe that was everyone? But that was still three people too many right now. Maybe only two, Chloé _had_ been getting better lately, but…

So. How to get the shirt away from Chevalier? And was it the chain mail, or was it underneath? She looked him over again, trying to see—

Oh. _Oh._ Oh holy shit. Looked like she wasn't the only one with a seriously inconvenient case of raging hormones right now.

—That could help.

Okay, so how was she going to play this? Marinette was probably going to keel over with a heart attack and _die_ later, especially if she pulled this off, triply especially if Adrien remembered any of it afterward. But here and now, no other option was presenting itself, and—and both their secrets were out, weren't they? And _Chat Noir_ would cheerfully go along with this, for the sake of the mission if nothing else (she was pretty sure), and he was decidedly still in there, and _Ladybug_ could definitely pull this line off with a straight face and a sultry voice—

_Here goes nothing._

"So, Chevalier," Marinette purred, "is that a baton in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

The classroom went silent.

Chevalier gave her a sideways glance. "I'm always happy to see you. It's kinda inconvenient sometimes."

Marinette scooted closer. "Is that so?"

Chevalier scooted away. "Hey. I thought _I_ was supposed to be acting out of character here. Not you."

"I don't know, handsome." She let her gaze travel the full length of him. "Maybe I just like the medieval knight aesthetic."

His face went brilliantly red.

"I _really_ like that chain mail," Marinette added— _sultry_ , sultry at all costs! "It's got a fantastic drape to it. Really shows you off." And hey, if she shifted around to _crawl_ over to him, that would give him a superb view down her blouse. "But you know, I think it would look better on the floor."

Chevalier's gaze sharpened.

—He jerked his head away. "No, no, buddy," he told the butterfly mask. "Fuck _you_. You can't have her, she's _mine_."

Marinette hesitated.

"Yeah? Do _you_ see Ladybug or Chat Noir right now? I'll worry about their fucking Miraculouses when they're actually in my fucking line of sight. Now get lost."

The mask winked out. Chevalier heaved for breath. Marinette moved closer; Chevalier held up one finger, and she paused again. "Okay," he said. "Okay. It's going to be okay."

A moment. Two.

Chevalier turned back to her and smiled, licking his lips, and Marinette found herself entranced by the small motion. "So," he said in a low voice. "Where were we?"

"Oh my fucking gods," said Chloé, "it's like listening to a porno."

"Shut _up_!" shrieked Marinette, and found her voice doubled by Chevalier's.

He caught her reaching hand with one of his and drew her onto his lap. He was smirking, or his mouth was—his eyes crinkled with concern. His hands glided up her arms to her shoulders, then down her sides to her hips, and the metallic gloves were cool on her skin but the intimacy of it _burned_.

Oh yeah, she was supposed to be doing something here. Marinette dropped her hands to the hem of the chain mail shirt and let them creep up his back. There was definitely a layer of cloth between the metal and his skin—oh gods this wasn't how she'd pictured getting her hands on Adrien—and she couldn't risk damaging the offending shirt until she was suited up herself, so she moved to trace her fingers across his fully clothed lower back, the chain mail rattling lightly over her hands. Chevalier in turn was caressing her between blouse and jacket, setting her skin on fire from hip to waist, from hip to side of breast—

His thumb brushed her nipple, and _fireworks_ : she squeaked.

"Too fast?" he asked, and he was breathing as hard as she was. "Talk to me, Marinette. I need to know you're feeling safe."

 _Safe_ was not the question here. "Not fast enough."

Chevalier caught her gaze and held it. The _fire_ in his green eyes—

She moved to straddle him; his breath caught. Maybe if she rolled her hips, while she kept working her hands upward—

He drew her closer, dipping his head to mouth at where shoulder met neck. Oh _gods_. The chain mail was bunched up under his armpits now, she was going to need a bit more cooperation from him, _fuck_ —

The silver dome flipped over: Ivan and Kim had lifted and thrown it, and Rena Rouge and Carapace and Queen Bee—

"Oh for the love of _fuck_ ," snarled Chevalier, snatching up his rapier and leaping to his feet, Marinette holding on for the ride. "You can't _have_ her!"

Okay, plan B it was.

Marinette wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on for dear life—weighing Chevalier down as he fought was probably the best way to play this right now, and also he didn't seem inclined to let go of her, either. The rapier flashed, leaving bloody lines on Rena's shoulder—Chevalier dodged Queen Bee's flying top, only to collide with Carapace's shield—they were in the courtyard now, the offending shirt flapping with every motion, and Marinette might be able to get the chain mail off anyway, or at least tangle it over his head, if she was careful—

The top caught Chevalier's shirt and pinned it to the wall, tearing it as he moved.

The little purple butterfly flapped into the air.

"Oh fuck," said Chevalier.

Marinette found herself sprawled on the ground, watching Chevalier chase the escaping—

—purple—

—butterfly.

Oh _fuck_.

Marinette bolted.

Her purse had acquired a second kwami while she wasn't looking, a cute black cat. "Almost got him, Plagg," she whispered to Chat's kwami. "Hang on. Tikki, spots on!"

Ladybug swung back into the courtyard moments later. "Sorry I'm late," she called to the bundle of fury that was three superheroes and an akuma.

Rena Rouge glanced between Carapace and Queen Bee, then vaulted to Ladybug's side. "It _was_ in his shirt," she told Ladybug. "It _is_ in his hand. We might be fucked. Where's Chat Noir?"

Ladybug glanced towards Chevalier, currently trying to skewer Queen Bee, and swallowed hard. "He isn't coming."

The blood drained from Rena's face.

"Lucky Charm!"

Ladybug caught the chef's knife, fortunately by its handle. "In his hand, you said?" and Rena nodded.

Well, that seemed straightforward. Ladybug cast her yo-yo, catching Chevalier by the wrist, and yanked. Carapace slammed his shield into the very purple other wrist: Chevalier yowled, dropping his rapier.

All gods large and small, she hoped he would forgive her later. Ladybug dashed across the courtyard and drove her blade through Chevalier's hand.

Chevalier screamed.

Her yo-yo whipped out, snagging the escaping purple butterfly. As the white butterfly fled, she yanked the knife free and sent it hurtling into the air: "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Adrien pitched forward.

Ladybug caught him. She grabbed the hand she'd stabbed, now mercifully whole, and pressed a kiss to Adrien's palm. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm so sorry."

"Ladybug, what—" Adrien looked honestly bewildered, if one didn't look too closely at his eyes. Those were deadly serious, calculating, altogether too like her partner's, and she didn't want to know what they saw.

That said, though. She balled up a fist and decked him.

"Hey!" Adrien had rolled with the punch, but there was probably still going to be a decent bruise on his cheek later. "Easy on the merchandise!"

"For once in your fucking life, Agreste," Ladybug snarled, " _put yourself first_."

—And she wasn't going to be able to face him, was she.

She ran.

* * *

Alya slipped out of the closet and glanced around the empty hallway. "Coast is clear," she hissed, and a moment later the closet door closed behind Nino and Chloé.

"Oh," said Chloé, sounding astonished. " _Oh_. I—guess I owe you both some apologies, now."

"Save it," ordered Alya with all the authority granted by what little seniority she possessed. "You two go find Adrien. I'll track down Marinette. We'll meet up at—where she sent us, Nino."

"Got it," Nino said with a firm nod.

Alya jogged in the approximate direction Ladybug had vanished, whipping out her phone. She texted Mme. Cheng first:

> _AC:_ Is Marinette home? Today's akuma focused on her but I lost track of her right after.

Then Marinette herself:

> _AC:_ Where are you? Can you meet us at that same address?

> _S Cheng:_ She's not here. The bakery's slammed—let us know if you find her? One of us will call you if she comes home.

> _AC:_ You're the best, Mama Cheng.

> _MDC:_ I'm already there. Please don't come yet, I need time.

> _AC:_ Tough shit. I want explanations, girl.
> 
> _AC:_ You know we love you. (Okay, maybe not C, but still.) We got you. Everything will be FINE.

> _MDC:_ I'll take your word for it.

Alya ignored the CLOSED sign on Master Fu's door. Marinette was curled up in a corner with two kwamis and a cup of tea, utterly miserable. "Hi," she said without looking up. "Sorry."

"What on earth are you apologizing for?" Alya asked, firing off a text to Mme. Cheng.

Marinette shrugged. "Everything?" She stroked the ladybug kwami's head.

"Tikki, talk sense into your chosen," grouched the cat kwami.

"Shush, Plagg," said the ladybug.

Trixx wiggled out of Alya's shirt. "Did we miss something?"

"Oh _fuck_ yeah," said Plagg. "And if nobody else tells my kitten _exactly_ what happened, _I_ will!"

Marinette jolted up. "No! Don't!"

Plagg soared across the room, cackling. Marinette gave chase.

Alya got out of the way.

The door opened again, admitting Chloé, Nino, and a very pale (bar the forming bruise) Adrien. Marinette was running the wrong way to see them: "Not a _word_!" she shouted, lunging for Plagg, who dodged. "Not _one word_ —"

Adrien's eyes narrowed in determination, and next moment Marinette was tripping over Adrien's shoe, straight into his arms.

Marinette stiffened.

Adrien let her go and stepped backwards. "Whatever I did, my lady, I a-paw-logize," he said, low and sincere.

"Shut _up_!" shrieked Marinette. "I can't—I don't—" She backed away, right into the wall beside Alya, breathing fast and hard. "Don't touch me. Go away."

"Are you sure that's what you need?" Adrien asked, cautious. Nino stepped up beside him, silent support.

Marinette was fumbling in her purse. "That's what I want!" She pulled something out, clenched in her fist; her expression hardened. "By the way, you dropped this." She winged it at his face.

Adrien's hand flashed out to catch the silver object. He examined the ring for a moment and slid it onto his finger. "Thanks," he said, in the same weary tone in which he always spoke of—well, anything that took him away from his friends. "Come on, Nino, let's go."

"Oh no," said Chloé. "Nino, don't let him go anywhere." She stalked over to Marinette and Alya. "I was his first friend, _Ladybug_. And he never chose _me_ —that's all on our parents." She pointed at Marinette, her finger millimeters from Marinette's nose. " _You_ were his second. He chose _you_. And now _you_ are going to get a grip, get it together, and prove to him that _you don't hate him_. And you are going to do it _right now_!" Her glare intensified. "Because otherwise, you will _break_ him. And then I will have to kill you."

Marinette gulped.

Alya slid an arm around Marinette's shoulders. "Come on, girl. You can do this."

Marinette shook her head, beginning to shake with sobs.

Alya glanced at Nino, making sure he had hold of Adrien. Adrien himself was looking anywhere but at anyone. Chloé stepped out of the way, and Alya steered Marinette over to the boys. "So, girl," Alya said breezily, "are you going to tell him what happened or are we going to let the fuzzball do it?"

"Plagg, I will drown you," Marinette said flatly, staring at Adrien's shoes.

"Please," said Adrien, his voice cracking. "At least—he was in my _head_ , LB. At least tell me what I told him."

Marinette wavered, then sighed. "Not a lot," she answered. "Mostly 'fuck off'. He reminds you of your father. Is the Gabriel spring collection really that big—"

Adrien shoved past everyone, leaned over the kitchen sink, and vomited.

Alya traded glances with first Nino, then Master Fu: the first perplexed, the second unreadable. Marinette was already at Adrien's side: "I've got you, chaton," she was murmuring, rubbing his back. "I'm right here, I'm not leaving you."

Chloé was throwing open kitchen cabinets, and finding another mug, set about pouring some water. "Don't just stand there," she snapped, "find me some bread or something." She brought the mugful over to Adrien.

Adrien leaned weakly against the countertop. "Thanks, Chlo." He rinsed his mouth out and spat.

"You okay?" Marinette asked in a tiny voice.

"No." Adrien moved to take her hand; stopped, moved back. "I need to sit."

Marinette, trembling, guided him away from the kitchen and down to the floor. Nino moved in to clean out the sink.

"You were right," Adrien told his shoes. "I should've listened. This could all have been over months ago if I'd _listened_."

"Chat?" asked Marinette, very hesitant.

"Not the collection," Adrien said. "Not the collec _tion_ —"

Marinette gasped. "The Collec _tor_."

Adrien's mouth twisted into something like a smile. "Yeah. The Collector."

"Oh gods." Marinette threw her arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Adrien."

"Guys?" asked Alya. "What am I missing?"

Marinette laughed, a broken sound. "We know who Hawkmoth is."

" _What?_ " squawked three teens at once.

Adrien pulled Marinette closer to him. "The upside is, he's never going to see me coming."

"I know that tone," said Chloé. "That is the 'this is going to hurt me but it's worth it' tone. Funny how it never works out to be worth it."

"Shut up, Chlo." Adrien gently pushed Marinette away and stood up. "I'm going home."

Marinette leaped up and caught his shoulder. "I'm going with you."

"No," Adrien said wearily, "you're not."

She glared at him. "Try to stop me."

"Element of surprise, LB." He slipped out of her grasp.

Marinette snarled and grabbed him again. "Tell me something, Chaton. All those times you were flirting with me. Did you mean a single word of it?"

"Don't do this to me," he whispered. "Please."

" _Did you mean it?_ "

Adrien seemed almost to slump in on himself. "I have never lied to you, Ladybug."

"That's what I thought." Marinette took a deep breath. "You listen to me, Chat Noir. Party at my place, Christmas Eve. There's gonna be mistletoe. And kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. And you had _better be there_."

Adrien closed his eyes. Alya saw the glimmer of tears.

"And then," Marinette barreled on, "it's gonna be you and me and a little house on the Mediterranean. Do you hear me? Three polka-dot kittens and a hamster. I've already picked out their names."

He snorted. "Have you, now."

"Alya can tell you."

Adrien glanced at Alya, with something that looked like life in his eyes. "Really?"

Alya smirked. "She wants to have your pretty, pretty babies. Emma, Hugo, and Louis."

Adrien blinked three times and twisted around to look at Marinette's vividly red face.

"I need you, Chaton," Marinette whispered. "Don't leave me."

Adrien cupped the back of Marinette's head with one hand. "Don't worry about me, princess." Slowly he smiled. "Besides. I distinctly recall saying 'guinea pig'."

Marinette snorted. "Hamster."

"Guinea pig. C'mere, Plagg."

"Hamster," said Marinette, and smooched her fingertips and tapped Adrien's lips.

Adrien blushed, and smirked, and with Plagg tucked inside his shirt, headed out the door. He poked his head back into the room: "Guinea pig."

Marinette dashed after him and yelled down the street, "Hamster!"

Silence fell.

"All right," said Nino slowly, "what the fuck just happened?"

Marinette shook her head. "Suit up. We're following him. And stay out of sight."

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Adrien sneaked into Caline's classroom a full hour late. At break, he came over to her desk and apologized: "I overslept," he told her. "Usually if I'm not at breakfast early enough, Nathalie rousts me, but I haven't even seen her today."

"Don't worry about it," Caline told him. "Just keep your grades up as always, and you'll be fine."

Adrien looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you say so. Thanks, Mme. Bustier."

On Wednesday, Adrien barely made it before class was scheduled to start. "I don't get it," Caline overheard him telling Nino in an undertone. "I haven't gone a whole day without sight or sound of Nathalie since Father hired her."

On Thursday at lunch, Caline had Adrien stay a moment, while his classmates filed out. "If there's anything wrong, let us know so we can help," she told him.

"I'm fine," Adrien said, but his voice cracked midway. "I—" He threw a glance at Marinette, waiting by the door for him. "—I'm really worried," he confessed, staring down at a pen on Caline's desk. "I haven't seen my father _or_ his assistant in _days_. Neither has Gorilla. It's just us there," he told her. "The house staff is Nathalie and Gorilla, that's it. Nathalie bothers me every day. Every single day. And Father doesn't leave the house. Ever. The only time I know of that he's left the property line in _years_ is—it's right after Chloé's mother was akumatized. Right after she got _me_."

The boy was shaking with the force of trying to contain his tears. Caline beckoned Marinette over: she'd had full reports of the Adrien akuma from both Kim and Ivan, and if she couldn't follow her own classroom's dynamics, she'd be a poor excuse for a teacher.

"It's not _like_ them," Adrien told her pen. "And—I keep thinking about Maman. She walked out on me too. Just like this." Caline offered him a tissue; trembling, he took it. "Just like this," he repeated, and finally looked up at her. "What's wrong with me?" he asked. "What—what did I do _wrong_?"

"I cannot imagine," Caline told him, "that you have done anything wrong at all."

Adrien smiled tremulously. "You think so?"

Beside him, Marinette snorted, taking his hand. "I know so. And by the way, _hamster_."

He blinked at her. "Marinette, we've been over this. Guinea pig."

"Hamster. Now come on, there's some pastries at the bakery with your name on them."

Adrien let Marinette draw him away. "Thanks, Mme. Bustier," he told her, and returned his focus to Marinette. "Guinea pig." Smiling, he kissed her nose.

"Hamster!"

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Dreamwidth](https://alexseanchai.dreamwidth.org/) and [Tumblr](http://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/).


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